Sold to Moretti Mafia

Markus

She pushes off the floor and to her feet. I rise to my feet with her, motioning to the door and for her to walk in front of me. I see her throat move as she swallows hard. She doesn’t like the idea of turning her back on me again. Smart girl.

She’s been warned. When she runs, I will give chase, and when I catch her, it will be anything but poetic.Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

Against her better judgment, she does as she’s told and walks ahead of me. With her shoulders slumped down and her head bowed, you can tell that she is thoroughly defeated.

Her feet move slowly up the stairs, but I try to be patient with her and not say anything. When she reaches the top, she stops altogether as if she is waiting for direction.

“Go to the bathroom,” I tell her, and she continues moving toward the bedroom.

Her eyes stay trained on the floor, and I just want her to fucking look at me. “I want you to take a shower while I make some dinner. Do you understand?”

She nods again, but this time I’m not satisfied with a simple nod.

“Look at me,” I demand.

She turns around hesitantly before lifting her eyes to mine. The moment our eyes connect, I wish I hadn’t made her look at me. There is a heavy sadness in the depth of her blue eyes. A sadness that is only overshadowed by one thing… fear.

I can’t imagine what she thinks of me now. How monstrous have I grown in her mind? It was the plan all along, and it must stay that way. I will keep her as mine until she is no longer of use to me anymore, until her worth has expired, and then I’ll…

Cowardly, I can’t bear to finish that thought.

The thought of killing her feels like someone is plunging a serrated knife into my chest. I’ve killed women before, but it’s been on rare occasions and only in situations where it was absolutely required.

“Do you understand?” I repeat, needing her words.

“Yes, I understand.” Her voice comes out soft and shaky but at least she is talking.

“Good, go take a shower and clean yourself up. It will make you feel better.” She, of course, doesn’t respond, not that I expected her to.

I watch her walk up the stairs to the bedroom, and when she disappears from view, I turn around and head back into the kitchen. There isn’t anything fresh here, only canned and dried goods, but it will do for now. We won’t go hungry.

After searching through the cabinets, I end up preparing a simple pasta dish with tomato sauce, parmesan, and canned chicken. I just finish draining the spaghetti when I hear Fallon descending the stairs. Peering over my shoulder, I catch sight of her wearing the overly large men’s gray T-shirt I left out for her.

My mouth fills with saliva and it’s got nothing to do with the food. The thought of fucking her against the counter, dirtying up her clean body all over again, makes my cock turn to steel.

No! A voice counters in my brain. I’m reminded of how emotionally unstable she is right now and how even if I am a shit person, she still needs to eat and sleep. Coming closer, her movements become slower, and her eyes flicker to the kitchen chair, where hours ago, the guy was tied up. There’s no evidence of that now, but she knows he was there. She knows I killed someone in this room.

You can’t unsee what’s already been done.

“Why don’t you go sit on the couch. I’ll bring you a plate.”

I don’t have to tell her twice. She sighs in relief and heads to the couch. I load up two plates and bring one, along with a bottle of water. She takes the plate from me and starts eating right away. At least I don’t have to force-feed her, which was something I was prepared to do if need be. I get my own plate and a beer from the fridge before I join her on the couch.

She doesn’t acknowledge me, pretending to be too busy eating.

“No gourmet food, but you don’t seem to mind,” I point out.

She shrugs her shoulders. “I’m a college student. I live off ramen noodles most days.” Even though she is speaking in a monotone voice and doesn’t look at me, I don’t miss how she just gave me a sliver of information willingly. That shouldn’t excite me. I shouldn’t care about her life or what she did before the day of the auction, but I do. I want to know more about her, find out all her secrets. I want to crack her open and peer inside, peel back the layers of who she is.

“I might make a run to the grocery store for some fresh food tomorrow or the day after. Is there anything you are allergic to?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

I almost ask her if there is anything she wants me to bring her, but then I remember her opinion doesn’t matter to me, or at least it shouldn’t. Asking her if she wants anything would make her seem like more than just a warm body for me to use, and I’m not about to cross that bridge. She finishes all her food and places her empty plate on her lap.

“Just put it on the coffee table. Let’s go to bed. I’m sure you’re tired.”

As she puts the plate onto the table, I can see her hands shake. The porcelain wobbles slightly before it touches the smooth wood.

Getting to my feet, I hold out my hand to her, but she just looks at it like I’m trying to drag her to hell. Maybe I am, or maybe I already have.

It takes a few minutes before she places her hand in mine. I pull her up gently and walk her up the stairs and to the bedroom.

When I tie her up, I leave her hands in front of her body, so she’ll be a little more comfortable tonight.

“Do I have to sleep in the bed with you?” she asks softly, looking everywhere besides my face. “I can sleep on the floor.” Her words bother me more than I can explain. The fury that had simmered down returns full force like a raging bull.

“You will sleep in this bed with me, or you will sleep in the cell naked and with the light turned off. Which one do you prefer, princess?”

“I want to stay up here,” she answers, her voice breaking at the end, and I know she is about to cry.

“Lie down then. Do you want something to help you go to sleep?” I offer, but she shakes her head right away. She awkwardly crawls into bed and curls up onto her side.

I tie her ankles together before I strip down to my boxers and climb into bed.

Turning off the light, I pull the blanket over both of us as I settle into the spot next to her. It takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust, and I can just about make out her blonde hair and delicate shoulder. She is turned away from me, quiet as a mouse, until a tiny sob escapes her.

Fucking Christ. Why does that bother me so much?

Huffing in frustration, I reach for her. Wrapping my arms around her slender body, I pull her into mine. She goes stiff before trying to wiggle out of my hold. I pull her closer until her back is pushed up against my chest. For good measure, I throw my legs over hers, rendering her completely immobile.

When I have her wrapped up like a cocoon, she loosens up slightly, but it isn’t until minutes later that she finally gives in. Instead of trying to get away, I can feel her relax into my hold.

Maybe I’m imagining things, but when she turns her head and moves her shoulder slightly, I almost think she is cuddling into me.

Not long after that, her breathing evens out, and I know she’s going to sleep. Only then do I allow myself to close my eyes and drift off into a dreamless sleep.